


The Decay of All Things

by metalwurm, steverogerswiener



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asgardian wildlife, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consentacles, Eggpreg, Eggs, M/M, Medical Procedures, Non-Linear Narrative, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Oviposition, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rape/Non-con Elements, Steve is Fucked Up for most of the fic so he's a very unreliable narrator, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Unreliable Narrator, Very Bad Things happening to Steve Rogers, all the sex in this fic is consensual, but there is nonsexual bodily violation so I will leave the tag up to be safe, i don't want anyone to be taken by surprise!, its like Aliens in that its like the metaphor for it but not the sexual act, its not technically rape but leaving the tag to be safe, the creature is sentient
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6689011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalwurm/pseuds/metalwurm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/steverogerswiener/pseuds/steverogerswiener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had tried to find Bucky as soon as he'd healed from the Insight disaster and it had lead him into a trap, and into the clutches of a horror the likes of which he'd never encountered before. He tried to convince himself that the creature had been a product of delirium, a nightmare made flesh only by his imagination. There was no way it could have actually existed.</p><p>But then his health begins to deteriorate, and he is faced with the impossible truth that it was <em>very</em> real.</p><p>Now HYDRA wants to take back what he has been unknowingly nurturing within his body by any means necessary, and as Steve slowly becomes aware of the circumstances surrounding his capture, his whole world begins to crumble around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Decay of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a dozy of a fic. This is just a short prologue, to get a feel for interest and to get the backstory set up. I promise, if you find this chapter a bit confusing it will make more and more sense with subsequent updates. The fic will have slower updates, but, the updates will be long. Steverogerswiener is my partner-in-crime and braintwin and helped me a lot with fleshing out the fic. [Requiodile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/requiodile/pseuds/requiodile) was involved as a sounding board and without these two this fic wouldn't have happened. This is un-beta'd, and any mistakes are my own. I've been staring at it for three days straight so there are likely a few mistakes that slipped past me. I'll tidy those up in the next day or so. Enjoy the fic!

Something else was in the cell.

Steve could sense it when he regained consciousness, a distinctly inhuman presence just out of reach, inspecting him like some forgone offering. His arms were bound and chained to restraints that hung from the ceiling and legs shackled to the floor that left him listing forward uncomfortably, unable to soothe the burning ache in his straining muscles. He might as well have been a sacrificial lamb. The copper of his own blood drying in his nose mixed with the earthy odor of the stone walls, but now there was something else hanging in the stale air. Something that smelled alive with a cold, dense scent like morning fog and unlike any living thing he was familiar with.

A quiet, slick sound was his only warning before the _thing_ touched him, his body recoiling in disgust as he struggled to press himself as far away as the bonds allowed from whatever the darkness was concealing. It felt cool, slick with moisture where it pressed against the bare skin of his stomach, tracing the large gash through both suit and muscle that Rumlow had left with his knife. Its flesh rippled and flowed, smooth as silk and fluid as it explored his body almost curiously. Even with his eyes cracked open he couldn't see much of the creature in the low light, just a shifting tangle of long, boneless limbs that swirled with dimly pulsing gray-colored patterns. It looked, for all the world, like something at home in the deep sea.

His attempts to keep out of its reach were meaningless, and when the creature seemed to realize that did it grow bolder. More of its soft limbs reached out towards him, slithering over his torso and snaking up around his arms, tugging him closer as they slid under his damaged uniform. Its balmy touch was soothing against his skin, hot still from the drug that Rumlow had injected him with before he'd lost consciousness. Regardless of the relief Steve shuddered in revulsion, squirming and struggling to shake the tendrils loose as more wrapped around his upper body. The creature was clearly HYDRA and had been released into his cell on purpose, but just what that purpose was he dreaded to think.

"... s-stop." He hated how weak his voice sounded, but to his surprise the monstrosity paused, almost as if it understood him. It reached out towards him with another limb, Steve cringing as it delicately, carefully, brushed down his cheek, cupping his jaw almost tenderly to tip his head back, easing his gaze up towards the creature's face.

At least, that's what he assumed was its face.

It seemed to tower over him, a shadowy mass that his blurry vision strained to see in detail. Six gleaming blue eyes stared down at him from a slender muzzle, the crown of its skull flared outward into imposing horn-like fringes. Bright, pulsing crimson markings formed a cobra's hood of the throat, making it difficult for him to really tell just how big the beast was. Its body seemed to be in a state of constant flux, its flesh roiling and almost transparent as it studied him, mapping his features with its damp, rippling tentacles. His body was easily restrained, thick coiled muscle looping around his waist and tugging him effortlessly closer. The horror was quick to probe his wound as soon as he was well within its reach, seemingly fascinated by the injury, but did not break eye contact with him, staring blinklessly even as he whimpered in pain.

The limb that cradled his head brushed across his cheek, wiping away where his eyes had begun watering from the pain of its inspections. It made a noise that was almost a croon, a soft, gentle sound of assurance as it stroked his face, as if it was trying to calm him. His skin felt like it was burning, the tiny pinprick where Rumlow had jabbed the syrette like a stinging knife in his neck, but the creature's touch seemed to relieve it briefly, made him want it to keep touching him, although the very thought of wanting it made him shudder in revulsion.

Steve looked away first, squeezing his eyes shut as one of the creature's limbs pressed hard against the wound, causing a hot burst of blood to drip from the torn flesh. The pain was sharp, ragged, wringing a choking gasp from his throat as he jerked away instinctively. The tentacles tightened around him, holding him firmly in place. They began to tug at the frayed edges of the uniform, widening the slash over his belly enough to accommodate more of its squirming limbs. He sucked in a sharp breath as the suction cups that lined the undersides of many of the tentacles latched onto his exposed skin and muscle, pulling it slowly, deliberately, deepening the knife wound for whatever sick reason it saw fit.

It _hurt_. The breath was nearly knocked out of his lungs at the jagged spike of pain as his flesh gave way with a sputtering of blood. Steve struggled, violently, panic and animal instinct telling him to _get away, get **away**_. The creature chittered loudly, pushing him down hard enough that the chains holding up his arms groaned in protest and the shackles cut into his wrist through the thick padding of his uniform. It barely slowed his frantic attempts to pull free, blind panic taking hold as he realized the beast had widened the puncture in his abdominal wall; it could spill his insides, easily. Serum or not, he'd bleed out if he was lucky, or suffer for hours if he wasn't.

The tentacle holding his head jerked his gaze upward, forcefully this time, tensing against his throat and snapping him to attention immediately. The bright, bloody patterns of its throat were glowing steady now, perhaps even brighter than before. It allowed him to see the creature's face in more detail; he almost wished he couldn't. The blunt nose of its muzzle peeled back in four sections like a grotesque flower, exposing a slick black beak at the center and rows upon rows of curved, sharp teeth on the undersides of the fleshy petals.

The creature's jaws snapped forward, striking like a serpent, hitting the chains that held his arms up. Steve was jolted painfully as the chains went taunt but it lasted only a second, the beast's beak shearing through the metal like it was nothing. He would have collapsed if the thing didn't support him, all the limbs curled around him holding him steady, manipulating his arms until they were at his chest level. The hot ache of his muscles, having been holding him up for so long, was soothed almost instantly, and he leaned into the support the creature was offering him without thinking.

Steve's eyes slid shut, exhaustion and the overwhelming relief of not having to hold himself up drowning out the horror of the situation for a few blissful seconds. The creature's movements turned gentle and deliberate, kneading against his shoulders and back as if it was trying to ease the pain out of his strained body. Tentacles as thick as his arm slithered over his legs, curling around the chains there that bound him to the floor. They snapped them from their anchors with barely any effort, peeling away the thick iron cuffs from his ankles before reaching up to wrap around his waist and slide up his back, hooking under his arms in a solid, sturdy grip.

A slick heat wrapped around his wrist, causing him to crack his eyes open. The creature's flexible jaws had enveloped his right wrist, the recurved teeth tugging at his uniform but, more terrifyingly, the razor-sharp beak was holding him. If it broke the chain so easily, it would no doubt snap his wrist like a twig. He felt the beak roll his wrist around delicately, as it would a fragile egg, and he realized it was trying to pry off the shackles. He felt it catch and pry, and the restraints popped open and fell into his lap without a sound. It held his wrist in its mouth for a moment longer, eyes swiveling in their sockets to look at his, before it released him and went to repeat the process on his other wrist.

While it went to work loosening the remaining piece of iron did Steve dare to look down at his stomach, where there was now merely a lazy trickle of blood from the deep wound. It was too dark to see all that much, but he could see the inch-wide incision Rumlow had made through his abdominal wall had been widened to what he guessed was three or four inches. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought, but it was still definitely alarming. He needed to get free, soon, but the creature was deceptively powerful and with so many limbs wrapped around him he could barely move, let alone try and fight the beast off.

The last restraint was peeled away from his wrist and it clanged loudly to the floor. The beast nosed at his side, pushing him against its chest and into its until-now hidden insectoid legs. Each had long black claws that hooked into his uniform and around his shoulders and arms, holding him to its underbelly as its whole body shifted around him. It tilted back, pulling him along with it, forcing him to lean against it or risk falling. It rocked onto its back, tugging Steve until he was on its soft underbelly, its multitude of legs forming a cage around him as some of the coiled tentacles slid off of his legs.

Its belly was a faded red color, and covered in polyps that undulated and flowed like fleshy feathers. He could feel them brushing against him through his uniform, and where they could touch bare skin through the rips and tears. It made him shudder. The mantis-like forelimbs hooked over his shoulders and folded over his upper arm, securing him to the creature. He could see the entire length of the beast's body and it was much, much larger than he'd originally thought, with a wide fluked tail that thumped against the stone floor lazily. He was flanked on both sides by more tentacles than he cared to count, and with the thicker ones now coiling around his arms he realized there was no way for him to free himself.

Steve panicked. He tried to kick at the black legs that held him, desperate and afraid of what it had in store for him. It made a loud clicking sound and seemed startled by his sudden resistance, which allowed him to pull one of his arms free. Its neck arched until it could stare down at him, its fleshy mouth opening and the hundreds of sharp teeth glinting in the light. He felt a sharp jolt in his chest as adrenaline took over, reaching blindly upwards towards its gleaming eyes, desperate for any hold on the slippery creature. He hit one of its crests and grabbed it, trying to force its head away from him. It undulated its jaws and hissed out a low warning, the fleshy parts of its mouth peeling backwards as it pushed down towards him again, barely slowed his frantic attempts to push it away.

Its beak clacked together near his ear, a blue-purple tongue darting out as fast and precise as a chameleon's. It pressed forcefully against his lips and slid inside, a startled noise escaping him as he began to thrash and struggle again, fear gripping him tightly. It had a strange clean taste and felt like silicon as it easily repelled his attempts to bite through it. The creature's grip on his body tightened and its limbs quickly latched to his body, suction cups and coiled muscle grabbing onto anywhere they could, trying to hold him down. Its tongue forced his jaw open widely, his eyes watering as it slithered down his throat, nearly cutting off his breathing.

A sudden burst of fluid filled his mouth, sweet and vaguely metallic as it dribbled down his throat, making him cough and sputter as he struggled to swallow it around the tongue before he choked. It was syrupy thick and made his mouth feel warm, the sensation quick to pool in his stomach and spread. His mind began to fog over, his thoughts thready and scattered as his body forcibly relaxed and his meager reserves of strength drained away. His grip on its head weakened and buckled, arm seized by more of its boneless limbs and restrained. He dimly heard the creature make a pleased keening sound as he stopped fighting and went pliable and complacent.

The tongue was pulled from his throat but remained in his mouth, his jaw forced open even wider as the tip hooked behind his teeth. He wanted to cry out, to move, to fight back, but whatever it had force fed him made it impossible; he could barely move his head, let alone attempt to beat the creature back. It held him almost gently now, rocking slowly on its back, a cool tentacle almost petting at him as it keened at him. Its head came to rest beside his own, its cheek pressed to his, a low rumbling sound, like a purr, building up in its chest. It threatened to rattle his teeth where it reverberated through the tongue still wedged in his mouth.

Its belly quivered under his back and something swelled up beneath him, tilting his hips up. Some instinct in him recognized what was going to happen and he tried to kick, tried to struggle and bite and fight back, but his sluggish movements were halfheartedly batted away by the creature. More of the thick fluid dribbled into his mouth, his head tipped backwards until he had to swallow or risk choking. He couldn't see what the creature was doing now but he could feel it, the mass underneath him slithering up and between his thighs, pressing against his crotch as it blindly prodded further upward, near his wound. The fog in his mind made it hard to process everything happening to him, and the creature seemed happy to take advantage of his vulnerability.

Steve shuddered violently as the soft and silken thing found the wound, even the gentle contact sending a jagged burst of pain through his body. He made a desperate noise and dug his fingers into the short tendrils of the beast's belly, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to form from the pain. The creature made a soft noise, almost as in sympathy, the rumbling purr growing louder as the fat, tubish limb pressed slowly past his torn muscles and skin, into his abdominal cavity.

The pain was so overwhelming and sudden that Steve couldn't even scream, could barely _breathe_. Regardless, the creature seemed to sense it as it suddenly looped a tentacle around his neck, another covering his eyes, preventing him from thrashing and seeing what was happening. It didn't try to choke him or tighten, just keep him safely still. Another squeezed his hand in some sick parody of comfort. It almost seemed like it was _trying_ to be gentle even though it continued to push into his body, the strange appendage burying itself deep within his stomach.

He didn't know what was worse, that the creature seemed to be actively trying to comfort him, or what it was doing to him. If it had just been violent and attacked him he wouldn't be so terrified. Instead it was acting like a tender lover one minute, all gentle and revenant touches and adoring sounds, and then the next it was flaying him open and doing God knows what to his body. It was unpredictable, and he had no idea what the creature's next move would be minute to minute.

A low, growling groan suddenly wheezed out of the creature, its tongue nearly slipping from Steve's mouth as _something_ happened to it. It's muscles seemed to heave, its limbs going tense all at once and holding onto him tightly. It wasn't as if it was preparing for him to try to escape, but as if holding onto him was somehow going to soothe whatever was happening to it. Its flat tail thumped hard against the ground, its body shaking with each impact. It was almost as if it was in pain.

Blinded as he was, he could only go off of what he was feeling to try and figure out what was happening. The limb between his legs was slick and hot, unlike the rest of the creature's cool body. It had become swollen, pulsing oddly as it felt like waves were rippling through it. His cheeks flushed and he exhaled sharply through his nose, acutely aware now of how the feeling of the throbbing thing was not all that unpleasant against his dick. He squirmed in its grip, the warmth of the poison or venom or whatever it was the beast had pumped him full of making him feel overheated and dizzy.

There was a heartbeat of tense stillness as the creature seemed to hold its breath, all of the wound up tension in its body hitting a peak as a muffled, wet _plop_ broke the silence. Steve felt something stir low in his belly, but in his delirious state he couldn't be certain if it was his body trying to respond to the unwelcome stimulus or if it was the creature moving inside him. A small pinpoint of heat low in his belly seemed to burst, blooming into a pleasant, heavy warmth that he'd never experienced before. It wasn't anything of his body's doing, he knew that then, as it was terrifying and strange and sent a pleasurable spark up his spine.

Some distant, animal part of him was overwhelmed by the sensation, caused a flood of emotion that he could barely put a name to, tears suddenly springing to his eyes under his blindfold of alien flesh. The creature gently cooed at him, petting his hair once again as if it was praising him. He let out a sob, stifled by his full mouth, chest swollen with some sort of pride he could find no source for. Was he going mad? Had whatever the creature had forced down his throat done this? He didn't have any answers, and he was starting to realize that he was slowly no longer caring about any of that, either. The remaining muffled, rational part of his mind screamed that something was very, _very_ wrong, but between the drug and the creature it was almost drowned out.

The beast's muscles contracted again, a second bulge traveling through the hollow organ buried in his gut. He felt it distinctly this time, a soft, living warmth pushed into his open wound, nestled beside the first. Then there was a third, then a fourth, a fifth and sixth; he stopped counting after that. He didn't know what they were, but he envisioned a string, with each new star of warmth in his belly manifesting as a pearl, forming a fragile necklace.

The rhythm of it lulled him into a half-aware state, between sleep and wakefulness. The beast chirped and cooed and purred, praise and encouragement in each action and sound it directed at him. The tentacle around his throat slipped away, as did the one over his eyes, the tongue withdrawing and its grip on his body going lax. It would have been a perfect chance to escape, if he'd been aware enough to take it. He didn't realize the creature had stopped until the slight pain of it exiting his wound was enough to rouse him from his near-stupor.

He groaned weakly and the creature shushed him softly, pressing a tentacle lightly against his lips as it went about arranging his body. Steve knew, dimly, that he should have tried to struggle while its grip on him was weak, but he was so tired that he couldn't muster the energy. It felt as though all the strength had been leached out of his muscles. The thing chittered at him, rearranging the tattered pieces of his uniform to better cover his wound before he was fully enveloped in its tentacles.

The sudden sensation of that jolted him to awareness, out of the hazy sleepiness that had clouded his mind. _He couldn't move_. He blinked his eyes and looked around wildly, trying to struggle but he could barely move. The creature made a sharp noise at him; it almost sounded like his name. He felt its claws grip his shoulder _tight_ , shaking him, something else touching his face and moving to press against his neck. His heart leapt and suddenly he could move. He swung, blindly, desperate to hit any part of the creature—

_"Steve? Steve! Wake up!"_

—and then he collided with solid flesh and bone with his fist as metal fingers twitched where they held his shoulder firmly, blue eyes staring down into his own as his spinning surroundings came into sudden, sharp focus.

The writhing tentacles seemed to vanish, replaced with the scratchy blanket of a cheap motel he half remembered being dragged to. The creature's head was gone, replaced with Bucky's familiar face, his expression worried and pained. All at once he realized he'd been struggling against him, that Bucky had been trying to rouse him from his nightmare and he'd hit him. He jerked back like a snake had bitten him; he would have fallen off of the bed if Bucky hadn't been holding onto him still.

"Are you alright?" his voice was almost a growl, rusty and low, but rang so clearly in Steve's ears that he knew he was awake. He blinked back at him, trying to process that he was awake and that he'd been dreaming, even though he thought he could still feel the vile creature's suckered limbs wrapped around him. Bucky's rough and calloused fingers brushed across his cheek, aware now that he was holding his head with his right hand and that he must have been crying in his sleep. He could feel dampness on his skin under Buck's fingers, and his cheeks flushed with shame.

"I—" he started, mouth suddenly dry and tongue sluggish as he realized he could still taste the sweet saliva of the beast in his mouth. He shuddered violently and tried to take a deep breath but his lungs heaved when he tried, something he hadn't felt since he was a sickly willow of a boy in Brooklyn. Bucky immediately helped Steve sit up with his back against the headboard, gentle as to not jostle him too much and risk reopening the wound on his belly that he'd so carefully wrapped the night before.

"S'okay, Steve. S'okay. You're out, the thing's gone now." Buck's words were almost slurred out, accent thick on his voice as he came to rest on his knees beside Steve with his hands, both flesh and metal, helping to support him as he tried to calm down. He sucked in great lungfuls of air as he tried to stop shaking, gripping Bucky's metal arm to try and anchor himself to the spot. Buck seemed to freeze for a moment when he realized he couldn't move his arm but slowly relaxed, hushing him softly and running his dirty fingers through Steve's stiff, slimy hair.

Steve's breathing took several long minutes to even out, and by then he was exhausted all over again, slumping against where Bucky had settled himself beside him. He had no idea how long he'd been down inside that base or even remembered how Bucky had managed to get him out, but he'd spent two solid days sleeping after Bucky had carried him to this small motel. He couldn't even remember if they were still in Germany or if they'd crossed the border into Austria.

"S-sorry, didn't mean to hit—"

"Shh, s'fine Stevie." Buck cut him off, nipping his train of thought in the bud. Steve truly hadn't meant to punch him, but the nightmare had felt so real that he hadn't known it wasn't actually happening, had tried to fight the imaginary beast off of him. Even now, awake and safe, he was convinced he could feel the creature's limbs on him; holding him down and touching him far too sweetly as it pushed _something_ into the gaping wound on his belly—

There was sudden shift inside of him, a lurching pressure, making sickening heat shoot straight up his throat. He barely had enough time to lean over the edge of the bed to grab the trash bin before he vomited, his whole body heaving desperately as if trying to rid himself of something. He hadn't eaten anything for hours so hardly anything came up, his muscles contracting painfully as it tried to expel what little fluid he had in his stomach until nothing at all came out. Bucky's cold metal hand was pressed soothingly against his back but it did little to stop the spasming of his muscles, as he retched dryly into the waste bin again.

Bucky's hand slid under his shirt, tracing the edges of the rough gauze he'd scavenged from the motel's supply room. Steve grunted and tensed as panic continued to pulse through him, even though Bucky's fingers were endlessly gentle where he could barely feel them through the thick bandaging. He knew he was checking his wound; he couldn't feel anything himself, no pools of warmth that would suggest he'd torn through the scab or reopened the wound. When Bucky had pulled him out of that cell his belly had been red with raw muscle but the jagged opening into his abdominal cavity had closed. It was a small blessing, as he knew Bucky wouldn't have been able to get him to safety if he'd still been in that condition.

He couldn't tell how long he'd been in captivity after falling into the trap Rumlow had set. There'd been no sunlight, no clocks, nothing he could use to tell the passing of time. He hadn't been fully conscious when he was carried outside, nor had he had the presence of mind to try and find a calendar or anything with a date on it after waking up to Bucky bandaging his wounds. And like now, every time he'd awaken it'd be to panicked hallucinations and nightmares. It was hard to tell what was real and what was in his head.

Steve let another shuddering breath escape him as felt Bucky move behind him, nestling in against his back as he slid down onto the pillows onto his side, exhaustion overwhelming him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He made a fist a few times to test his reflexes, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to get comfortable. Now that he knew that the blanket was just that, a blanket and not the creature's inescapable embrace did his nerves finally start to settle. He was weary down to his bones, from the ordeal, from his injuries trying to heal, from the nightmare; he fell asleep as soon as his eyes were closed.

When he woke up Buck was gone, as if he'd been little more than another aspect of his delusions, and he could hear Natasha and Sam beating on the door. He knew at once Bucky had led them here, to make sure he was taken back to proper medical care, but he couldn't help but feel the sense of failure that he'd gotten so close to Bucky and lost him. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> [More jellydragon filth on my Tumblr!](http://metalwurm.tumblr.com/)


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